White Innocence, Blue Peace, Red Rage
by ChubbyCubby23
Summary: It was something they all hoped would never happen again, though the possibility always lurked in the back of their minds. It was, however, as inevitable as the changing seasons. After the first two World Wars, the countries swore to never again fight to such a devastating extent...But words and promises are such trivial things over time.
1. Red Again

It was another World Meeting for the countries, this time held in Poland's capital, and there was a palpable tension among the European nations. Most of them were aware of the silent war being waged in Russia's government, and those who did not still knew better than to approach the aggravated Slavic country. The large nation was easily irritated, and almost all of the other countries kept their distance so as not to bring on a violent rage.

_Almost_ all of them.

The one country that was Russia's constant companion, surprisingly enough, was none other than America. The western nation considered Russia a good friend, despite all the two countries had put each other through.

America was more vocal about his country's problems than Russia was. He would talk about all the things that were bothering him, from a difficult war to a long line at McDonald's. Russia would listen quietly to the younger nation prattle on, commenting here and there.

Now, Russia, on the other hand, would only speak of the small problems, never the things that really bothered him. You could tell things were bad in his country when the larger nation didn't say anything. That was why America was so worried about Russia lately. The Eurasian country had said absolutely nothing throughout the entire meeting, nothing at all. His face was completely blank, his mind clearly not on the meeting.

While England droned on about something only mildly important, America leaned over the arm of his chair to ask in a hushed tone, "Dude, what's up with you? You've been completely out of it through the whole meeting...Usually I'm the one spacing out at these things, big guy. Don't you care about what's going on? Especially with that arms agreement that Germany wants to get passed...I would've thought you'd have something to say about that...Russia?"

Russia didn't seem to acknowledge the American country at all, his purple eyes focusing on something not there. "они следовать не*...зачем*? как мог этот происходить*?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

America blinked in confusion. After spending so much time with the other nation, not to mention all the immigrants that he got from the icy country, he had learned a little bit of Russian, though he still wasn't very good at speaking or understanding it. "What? Man, did you get hammered before coming here? You're not making any sense," Alfred said, trying to laugh off Russia's strange behavior.

Russia's eyes slid over to glance at the blond nation, though they were clouded over and clearly did not really see America. "H-Help me...," he abruptly choked out, his usually adamant voice tinged with fear.

America was about to call the beige haired man out on his joke - for this _had_ to be a joke, Russia never showed fear to anyone - but he stopped himself as he noticed the steadily growing patch of red on the Slavic country's chest, staining through the suit jacket he was wearing. "What the hell...," he muttered in disbelief, his blue eyes widening.

"America...They're attacking...Moscow...You have to-" Ivan breathed, but his eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness, whatever he was saying going unfinished.

"Holy...England, shut up and get over here!" Alfred yelled, bolting out of his seat to keep Russia from falling out of his chair; the larger man's body completely limp.

England paused in his long-winded speech, and glared at the loud outburst from America. When he saw the fearful look on the younger country's face, as well as the unconscious Russia, he stiffled the whithering remark that almost came from his mouth. "What in the world...," he muttered under his breath in confusion. Clearing his throat, he turned to Poland, who was heading the meeting. "May I call for a break in the meeting, Poland?" Arthur asked, scanning the group of gathered countries to see who had noticed whatever it was that was going on with Russia. So far, it only appeared to be those seated closest to the Eurasian nation that had picked up on the situation, though they seemed to be trying to stay out of it for the most part.

"That's, like, fine with me. I was starting to want a snack anyway," Feliks stated obliviously, closely inspecting his nails.

The other countries agreed to the break, and slowly filed out of the meeting room; chatting and arguing amongst themselves.

England made his way through the press of bodies until he forced his way over to America and Russia, a slight scowl on his face. "What the bloody hell is going on here? It had better be important, you just put a pause in a world meeting...While _I_ was speaking no less...," he grumbled.

America ignored the island nation's annoyed tone, a worried expression on his face as he kept a steady hold on Russia's shoulders. "Of course it's fucking important! Ivan doesn't make a habit of passing out during meetings!" Alfred bit out, shooting a look at the Brit.

"Well, care to explain what happened _before_ he passed out? You called me over for my help, did you not?" Arthur sniffed, crossing his arms in a show of mild displeasure at being talked to in such a manner.

"I...don't really know. Ivan was out of it the entire meeting, not paying a lick of attention to anything. Then, he started muttering some gibberish in Russian, but none of it made any sense. He asked for my help...and that's when I saw the blood," Alfred recounted, indicating the large spot of red on the Russsian's chest.

England remained silent as America explained things, watching his former colony thoughtfully. America, though prone to over reactions, didn't get like this very often, so he knew it was something quite serious. England shifted his attention to Russia, his expression darkening slightly. "It couldn't have been an attack from another country...Everyone was here. They would have no where to escape without being identified by the rest of the world," he mused, trying to understand what was going on.

France, who had been seated fairly close to America, came up to the other countries, confusion written on his fair face. "What is going on? Why was the meeting postponed?" he inquired, falling quiet when his eyes came to see Russia.

"Bloody hell! Don't sneak up on me like that, you filthy frog! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Arthur yelled, surprised by the Frenchman's sudden appearance. "Why are you here? I thought you'd be off trying to woo some unfortunate gal," he hissed, glaring at the blond.

"When I saw the two of you over here, not leaving the conference room with the others, I decided to come and ask as to why the meeting was cut short...But I think I can guess," Francis replied, his ocean blue eyes zoning in on the splash of red on Russia's chest. "What happened to Russie*?"

"I believe something's happened internally...Possibly another rebellion," Arthur murmured, his hand coming up to his chin in thought.

"Internally? Like in the government, you mean?" Alfred asked, adjusting his glasses as they started to slip down his nose. "I knew there were some problems over there, but not anything that would lead to this..."

France gave the sandy blond an incredulous look. "What? I thought you two were quite close, do you not talk about when you're facing hard times? Even Angleterre* and I converse when things are difficult," he said, somewhat surprised at the American's lack of information on Russia's current troubles.

America frowned at that. "Sure we talk! Well...at least _I_ talk...Ivan just listens most of the time," Alfred replied haltingly, feeling guilty. _If I didn't talk so much all the time, would he have said something to me?_

"Nyet*, Alfred...I know what you are thinking. I still would not have said anything to you," Ivan slurred out, sending the other nations about three feet in the air out of surprise.

"Why not? We're friends, right big guy?" Alfred burst out, after he had recovered from his shock.

Russia gave a stiff nod, rising somewhat unsteadily from his seat. "Listen very carefully to me, Alfred...I didn't tell you of my government's growing problems because I knew you would try to fix it-"

"Of course I would've! Like I said, we're friends, so-"

"Let me finish," Ivan ground out in a tone that America hadn't heard since the Cold War.

America fell silent.

"I didn't want you getting involved precisely because of the fact that we are friends. Although, seeing how things have gone now, maybe I should have approached it differently and asked for foriegn help...," Ivan muttered, running a trembling hand through his short beige hair. He let out a short puff of air, wincing when the action made his chest wound twinge painfully. He let his hand fall back to his side, but the tremor persisted in his arm quite visibly. "A new regime of communist idealists slowly started to gain entry into my government several years back. We thought nothing of them since they had hardly any supporters, but that has proved to be a severe mistake. They began gathering more and more sympathizers, and last year they made a threat on the current government, boasting about how they could capture Moscow in one day...We assumed they were bluffing, that they were grasping at straws," he continued, his lip curled in self-loathing.

"N-No...You wouldn't let that happen...Ivan...," Alfred said in utter disbelief, shaking his head numbly.

"They struck at Moscow...I didn't know until just now, when it happened during the meeting. They've taken complete control, and I know I'll be following soon...," Ivan spat, giving America a rather forlorn look.

"Stop lying, damn it...This isn't happening!" Alfred shouted, grabbing the larger country by the collar and shaking him roughly. "Say something, you stupid bastard! You're Russia! You can kick their commie asses into space, so why didn't you do anything? What happened to "Russia doesn't compromise"? Hell, this is worse than compromising, this is _surrender_! Since when were you someone else's bitch to roll over for whenever they tell you to?" he demanded, a fierce snarl on his lightly tanned face.

"Despite what they stood for, they were still _my _people! I'm so damn _sick_ of tearing myself apart because of the differences in my peoples' views...I just couldn't do it! I couldn't fight against my own people, not again, Alfred," Ivan retorted, his purple eyes boring into America's sapphire blue ones.

America froze, seeing the raw emotion in Russia's eyes. He dropped his hands from the larger man's collar, backing off. "I...I'm sorry. I just got a little carried away," he mumbled, not breaking eye contact with the other. America bit his lip, thinking back to the worst war he had suffered through: his civil war. That had been the darkest moment in his history.

Russia shifted his gaze to the other European countries, England and France gulping nervously when the Eurasian's cold eyes turned on them. "Tell every other country you can to prepare for war. You can't hold anything back. I won't be in a right state of mind when next we meet, not under my own control or thoughts, so don't attempt anything diplomatic. I will not return any gestures of peace, so do not offer any. This will be a conquest that involves the whole world; I will attack all who do not join me, and I will invade those who stand against me. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked in a strained voice, like it was becoming hard to speak.

The two nations nodded numbly, attempting to process everything. France quickly ran from the room to spread the word, but England hesitated. "Why are you telling us this? It...It makes no bloody sense!" Arthur exclaimed, still trying to wrap his head around all of this.

"Because...I need you to stop me," Ivan answered slowly, shifting closer to America. He pulled the smaller country into a crushing bear hug, whispering something into the blond's ear.

America yelped in surprise at the abrupt embrace, his eyes narrowing as Russia whispered into his ear. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat as he felt warm tears splash onto his neck, and he returned the Russian's hug with an equal ferocity. He ignored the blood that had soaked into his white dress shirt, staring after the larger country as he ended the embrace and quickly left the meeting room. Sapphire blue eyes blinked rapidly, determined to not spill tears of their own. "We need to put off the meeting, Artie. Let everyone get ready for war, discuss things with their bosses, and then we'll get together and figure out a plan of action," he said in a slightly wavering voice, gathering his things from the table.

"Alfred, what did he say to you?" Arthur demanded, his green eyes narrowed.

America paused, glancing away from the older country. "I can't tell you right now...But when I find what I need to, you'll be the first person I tell," Alfred responded dodgedly, sprinting out of the room before the island nation could pry any further. Russia had left this information to him, and he needed to see for himself that it was true.

* * *

они следовать не: They should not** In Russian**

зачем: Why **In Russian**

как мог этот происходить: How could this happen **In Russian**

Russie: Russia **In French**

Angleterre: England **In Russian**

Nyet: No **In Russian**


	2. Deadly Cycle

"France, slow down so that we can understand you, aru!" Yao sighed in annoyance, giving the European an aggravated look.

The Frenchman had run over to the group of other nations, practically tripping over himself in the process, blabbering on about something unintelligible.

Italy had instantly gone into sympathy mode, and started hugging France. Germany was trying to pry the smaller country off of France while trying to make sense of what the Frenchman was struggling to say. China was also trying to decipher the nonsense, while Japan remained silent and watched it all happen.

"O-Oui*. Well, there is no elegant way to put this...We all need to prepare for war. Inform all of your bosses that we are now entering, unfortunately, what is likely to become World War III," Francis explained, regaining some of his composure.

"What?" the group of nations exclaimed at once.

"When did this happen?" Ludwig demanded.

"Who started this?" Kiku inquired, trying to keep a cool head.

"Ve~ Should I start making white flags, Ludwig?" Feliciano asked in a rather oblivious way.

"Aiyah! Why does peace never last as long as it used to, aru? I blame all you young people," Yao muttered.

"Well, it happened just a few minutes ago, actually." France paused to glance over his shoulder at the conference room. "Russia has turned back to communism, and declared war on practically the entire world. We cannot lag our feet on this. Go and prepare, spread the word to others as well," Francis finished in a serious voice, and headed off to warn as many nations as possible.

As the other nations hurried to make arrangements, Italy hung back, noticing the grim look on Germany's face.

"Germany..."

The blond glanced at the brunet, his blue eyes taking in the other's rarely seen seriousness. "Ja*, Italy?" he murmured, looking the smaller man in the eyes.

"It's happening again...isn't it?" Feliciano asked in a low voice, his spirits dampened greatly by the day's dark turn of events.

Germany gave Italy a tentative, and somewhat awkward, hug. "Ja, I think it is...only...the players have changed sides." He gave a heavy-hearted sigh. "We should have known that something like-" Germany stopped suddenly, unable to actually say the names of those terrible wars.

"Ve~ You don't have to say it, Germany. I know what you're thinking...I've known you for this long I should, shouldn't I?" Italy gave a small smile, trying to cheer up his old friend in spite of what was going on. If he was good for anything it was making people happy when they needed it most.

"Danke*...Feliciano. We should have prepared for something like this...It is, unfortunately, in our natures as personifications of countries to change...and not always for the better," the German continued. He then lapsed into silence, wanting to hold onto this one moment of peace before preparing for war.

"Don't worry, Ludwig. As you said, we may change for the worse sometimes, but after that we always change for the better! After all, once you hit the bottom there's nowhere to go but up!" Feliciano said in his usual optimistic tone.

Germany looked down at the brunet in amazement. _Only he can see the good in a situation such as this. I honestly hope that never changes...But...if what he says is true...then we'll be digging Russia out of his own grave_, the blond thought grimly.

* * *

Oui: Yes **in French**

Ja: Yes **in German**

Danke: Thanks **in German**

I didn't look the German words up specifically, so they may be wrong. If I am wrong in their meanings, please, let me know!


	3. Childhood's a Callin'

America quickly grabbed his bomber jacket and all but ran out of where his boss was staying, taking his phone out of one of the pockets. He hurriedly accessed the internet, bringing up a map of Russia. "Izmaylovsky Park...Izmaylovsky Park...Where is it?" he muttered under his breath, not watching where he was going. America let out a surprised grunt as he knocked into someone, jarring the phone from his hands.

"Ah! I'm sorry...Oh, America! I appologize for running into you," Toris said in a slightly surprised tone, bending over to pick up America's dropped phone.

"Whoa, sorry, Lithuania! I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was goin'," Alfred chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression on his face.

Lithuania smiled, glancing down at the screen of the phone. "Izmaylovsky Park...That's in Russia, why are you looking at it?" he asked, confusion clear on his face. "Especially with what's just happened, I don't know why you'd be interested in it," Toris murmured, handing the electronic back to the western country.

"Well...," Alfred trailed off, not sure if he should include Lithuania in this. _He __**has**__ known Ivan for a long time, much longer than me, that's for sure...Maybe he'll know something about this that I don't..._, he thought, deciding to take a chance. He knew Lithuania woudn't do anything wrong with the information, he was a good, trustworthy person. "I might need your help with something, Lithuania...If you're willing, that is," the sandy blond said, returning the phone to his jacket pocket.

"Of course, America...What do you need?" Toris asked, still a bit confused by the way America was acting.

The bespectacled nation let out a pent up breath, shifting from foot to foot. "Before Russia left, he told me to go to Izmaylovsky Park. He said that there would be something there to help in the war, but he didn't tell me what it was or where exactly to find it. Hell, he didn't even tell me where this park was! So, if you possibly know your way around there, I'd be really grateful for your help, Toris," Alfred explained, a hopeful look in his blue eyes.

Lithuania was silent for a moment, digesting the information. "Yes, I know where the park is. It's in the same area as Moscow, but still a ways away from the city. Why would he send you there?" the brunet wondered out loud, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"I don't know, man, but if whatever I find there can end this war quickly and get Ivan back to normal, then it doesn't matter to me. So, are you coming with me, Toris?" Alfred asked, pulling on a pair of black gloves.

"If it will aid in this upcoming war...and if it will help Russia return to himself, than I'll go with you. I don't want to see him go through this again...Communism nearly broke him the first time, I don't want to see the end result this time around," Toris replied softly, tucking some of his chestnut brown hair behind his ear. "Everyone thinks he was a complete monster back then, but they weren't there, they didn't see how Russia suffered..."

America remained silent, not wanting to intrude on the other country's memories. He had been one of the many countries that thought that of Russia, he had even spread many of those horrible rumors himself. But, when Lithuania came to work at his house, he had gotten a much different perspective from the European country; one that didn't quite match up to the stories.

Lithuania cleared his throat, blinking away the old memories. "We'll need to be very careful going into Russia...Being so close to Moscow, there are bound to be quite a number of guarded check-points," he pointed out, drawing his coat closer around himself.

"Yeah, that could get tricky, but we need to find whatever it is that's out there before the new Soviet Russia does," Alfred stated grimly, his mouth held in a thin line.

* * *

"D-Damn, s-shoulda brought more to w-wear. Geez, I'm freezing my freakin' berries off out here!" Alfred complained, burrowing as far into his bomber jacket as he could.

"I told you to wear something warmer, America! It's winter, so it's going to be very cold and snowing here," Toris sighed in exasperation, glancing around the snowy forest.

The two had caught a last minute flight into Moscow, the last plane going there because of the violence in the city. They didn't get very far before seeing the damage; tanks and soldiers in the streets, blood and bodies in the snow, buildings burning or falling apart from tank and rocket fire. They had barely snuck past the few check-points that had been hastily constructed, trying to not draw any attention to themselves as they entered the park.

It made America sick to his stomach to see all of it. Moscow was Russia's heart, like all capital cities were to the countries, and it was being destroyed.

"Y-Yeah...I guess I s-sort of didn't think about i-it," Alfred stammered, stopping at the base of one of the many snow covered trees. Sighing, he removed his glasses to rub at his eyes wearily.

They had been searching the large, forest dense park for nearly two hours now, and they still hadn't found anything. The two countries couldn't stay here for long, they may be detected and captured. But they felt that they couldn't leave without whatever it was that they had come to find.

"America...," Toris uttered in a low voice, his expression showing concern for the sandy blond.

"No, not yet! Just...not yet," Alfred said, moving to put his glasses back on. Just as they touched the bridge of his nose, he heard a twig snap from somewhere behind him. America whirled around, while Lithuania jumped slightly, but neither could see whatever made the noise. "Did you hear that?" Alfred whispered, his hands paused near his face with his glasses suspended over his nose.

Lithuania nodded, silently praying that it wasn't any of the soldiers from the city. They hadn't brought any weapons with them, so if it came to a fight they wouldn't be able to defend themselves.

Something blurred across America's vision, behind Lithuania, but he couldn't see clearly without his glasses in place. "Whoa, hey! What was that?" he blurted out, quickly throwing his glasses on as he ran after whatever had crossed his line of sight. He followed small prints in the snow, but he couldn't discern what exactly it was that he was chasing.

"A-America! Wait!" Toris called after the blond, slipping in the snow as he tried to follow after the American.

America slowed down as he saw the prints in the snow circle around to a tree, but they didn't continue away from the large plant in any way. He snuck over as quietly as he could to the tree's wide trunk, pressing up against it. He slowly crept around the cold, rough tree trunk, hoping to catch whatever was hiding behind it in surprise. "Gotcha!" Alfred boomed loudly, making a leap to grab the thing. He blinked in surprise when there was nothing on the other side, freezing mid-leap when a load of wet snow fell onto him, inching down his back. "What the-"

Childish laughter filled America's ears as he brushed snow off of himself, hissing from the cold. He craned his neck to try and see into the tree's thick branches, but he couldn't see past the thick barrier of greenery.

_There's someone up there, damn it, and I'm going to find out who!_ Alfred resolved, starting to climb up the snow laden tree without a second thought. He could here Lithuania finally catch up to him, but he didn't stop to look down. As he reached the second branch, though, America was rewarded with a snowball pelting him right in the face. America, now blinded by whiteness, lost his balance and grip, falling off of the tree while his hands flailed around for some sort of purchase. He landed with a muffled thump in the cold snow, the outline of his body etched into the white that coated the earth.

More laughter greeted America as he leaned up on his elbows, wiping wet snow from his face. He quickly readjusted his glasses, locating the source of the laughter.

It was a boy.

He couldn't of been more than five or six; with short, messy beige hair, and deep purple eyes. He had on a white, long-sleeved shirt that was just a bit too big for him, and dark brown pants that came about to his mid-calf; a faded scarf wrapped securely around his neck, trailing down his back because of its absurd length. The boy was now sitting on the lowest branch of the tree, kicking his bare feet back and forth as he braced himself with his hands so he didn't lose balance and fall. A familiar smile was on his chubby face as he watched America stand up.

Lithuania came up next to the blond westerner, a dumbfounded look on his cold-bleached face. "It's...not possible...I-Ivan?" he breathed, stopping dead in his tracks.

"No way...," Alfred murmured under his breath, his eyes widening as he looked the boy over.

The boy turned his dark purple eyes onto Lithuania, cocking his head to the side questioningly. "How'd you know my name?" he asked, awe in his curious voice.

As the two countries struggled to come up with a good answer, not to mention the fact that they were still trying to figure this whole situation out themselves, the boy was going to ask another question, but something distracted him.

That something happened to be a fluffy, grey-furred squirrel that had hopped onto the same branch as him. The animal sniffed around the branch for a while before finding the space a little too crowded for its tastes, and it scurried down the tree and scampered across the snow. The boy, instantly fascinated, decided to follow the fuzzy little creature. He shifted around on the branch, trying to figure out the best way to get down. Eventually, he just lowered himself down by his hands, the rest of his body dangling above the snowy earth as he hung there.

"How's this possible? Are you sure this isn't some weird, hypothermia induced dream and we're not actually laying unconscious somewhere in the snow?" Alfred asked, trying to rationalize this situation in his head somehow.

"No, I'm pretty sure this is real...somehow...It does make _some_ sense," Toris murmured, turning to fully face America. "Every country has a special place that they will come back to if they die, or go through some serious changes that cause a brief rearrangement in the country, such as a new government or civil war. It's sort of like a regeneration point. This park resides in the area that made up the Kievan Rus principitality which Russia first represented, before he became his own official country. If Russia has suddenly been forced back into communism, then there will likely be people in the country who oppose it: rebels," he continued, realization dawning on his face.

The boy started to swing back and forth on the branch, the rough bark breaking off in little bits from the friction caused by his hands. While America and Lithuania were distracted by their thoughts, the young boy swung off the branch and landed with a soft thump in the snow. He followed after the squirrel's small pawprints in the snow, leaving a trail of his own as he tracked the animal down, eager to continue the mission: Catch the Fluffy Squirrel. He forgot all about the other two countries as he toddled off into the forest.

"And that could lead to a split in personifications...," Alfred breathed in amazement, slapping a gloved hand to his cheek. "Well, that would certainly explain little Rus...Hey...where'd he go?" he blurted out, noticing a lack of the small Russian in the vicinity.

The two countries glanced around, but they didn't see the little boy anywhere.

"Uwaaaaaa! We lost little Rus! What do we do, what do we do?" Alfed proceeded to freak out, running around the area in a frantic search.

* * *

The squirrel was perched on a snow covered rock, nonchalantly nibbling at a stone cold seed that it had happened upon on in the snow. Little did the small creature know, it was being hunted.

The hunter steathily closed in on its prey, hardly making a sound as it came up behind the rodent, readying itself to attack.

The squirrel paused in its nibbling, its fluffy tail twitching as it carefully listened to the surrounding woods. Finding nothing out of place, it continued to gnaw at the seed in blissful ignorance.

The predator saw its chance of opportunity, and crouched down into a low position before pouncing on the animal.

"Caught you, da*?" Ivan giggled, capturing the grey rodent in his hands as he landed on his stomach in the snow.

The squirrel chattered in annoyance as it was gathered up into small, cold hands. It chittered more into Ivan's face, anger making its previous cuteness dim a little. Ivan giggled again, ignoring the squirrel's irritation as he traced a finger down its back, enjoying the feel of its warm fur. The boy looked up from the small animal in his hands at the absurd noise that came crashing through the forest.

America and Lithuania stumbled past a few trees, nearly tripping each other up and almost running into the boy. The two countries let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"There you are, Ivan! Geez, tell a guy before you go running off after...uh...squirrels," Alfred said, glancing at the large rodent.

"Ah, don't lay in the snow! You'll get sick from the cold," Toris chided, trudging quickly through the snow to pick the boy up out of it.

"Hey, how do you know my name?" Ivan repeated, suddenly remembering his previous question. He squirmed around a bit as Lithuania picked him up, tucking his legs in and bringing the squirrel closer to himself as he was lifted off the snowy ground.

"Well, you told us, of cour-" Alfred started to say, but cut himself off when Lithuania motioned subtlely for him to stop. He shrugged his shoulders, silently asking "What?".

Lithuania shook his head, his brown hair following the movement fluidly. He cleared his throat, bringing his attention back to the little boy as he settled the child on his hip. "Ivan...you don't remember us?" he asked in a soft tone, tightening his hold on the Russian when the boy started to squirm again.

Ivan seemed to think for a moment, burying his face into his scarf. "Nyet...," he replied slowly, his chubby face scrunched up in thought. "I'm sorry, da?" he offered an apology, looking slightly regretful.

"No, no...That's okay if you can't remember us. All you need to know about us is that we're your friends, alright?" Toris murmured, shifting Ivan slightly to a more comfortable position. He brought his hand down to the boy's left foot, gasping as he felt how cold it was. "You're freezing! How long have you been out here? And barefoot, too!" he exclaimed, somewhat thankful that he didn't have his gloves with him. If he'd had his gloves on, he wouldn't have noticed how cold the little boy was.

Ivan's expression shifted to one similar to that of a befuddled puppy, his head tilting to the side in confusion. "I don't know...I just woke up here. It was really cold before, but I stopped feeling cold a while ago," he replied, giggling when the squirrel nudged at his hand.

Lithuania now noticed that, while he could see both his own breath as well as America's, Ivan's wasn't visible in the cold night air. _His body temperature must be dangerously low! We __**need**__ to get him warm!_ he thought, concern flooding his mind, making his stomach knot. "Alfred, could you please take him for a moment?" Toris asked, gnawing on his bottom lip.

America blinked, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Yeah, sure thing, bro," he answered, somewhat awkwardly taking the boy from the European country. It was such a weird thing for America, _holding_ Russia. It certainly wasn't a situation America ever thought he would be in since, even with his super human strength, Russia was the largest country on Earth, and was a pretty heavy guy when he was...well, an adult. As a child, though, it wasn't too much of a problem, even if he was a bit heavier than America first thought he would be. He glanced up from studying the little boy when he heard the sound of a zipper being undone, gapping in confusion as Lithuania unzipped his heavy winter jacket. "What're you doing?" he blurted out, bouncing Ivan a bit in his arms.

"Alfred, he's freezing...We need to get his body temperature back up before he gets seriously sick," Toris replied in a serious tone, motioning for the blond to hand Ivan back over.

"So you strip down in the snow?" Alfred asked, still not understanding what Lithuania was doing.

"No...I'm just trying to get him warmer by sharing body heat, America...," Toris stated, holding Ivan as close to his body as he could and then zipping the jacket up around them both. "This won't do much, though, especially if we stay out here, so we should get moving."

America nodded, realization finally hitting him, and started to backtrack their way out of the forest. "Alright, let's get goin'. All we need to do is sneak back into the city and find someone who's willing to fly us out of here and back into Warsaw...," he muttered, a grim look on his face.

Lithuania followed behind America, withdrawing his arms into the torso of his winter jacket, groping around for Ivan's hands. Once he found them, he encircled them with his own, larger than the other's this time around, and furiously tried to rub warmth back into the Russian's icy hands.

Ivan had started to doze off, the cold finally having its effect on him. He could feel Lithuania's heart beating, as his ear was pressed up against the brunet's chest, and it was such a soothing rhythm that he lost his fight to stay awake. He didn't even notice the large grey squirrel cuddle into the folds of his scarf, settling comfortably in the space between his neck and shoulder. He yawned, smiling a bit in his sleep as warmth slowly started to make its way back into his body.

* * *

Da: Yes **in Russian**


	4. Rising Above, Moving On

"Hey, do you hear what I'm sayin'?! We're government officials from the United States of America and Lithuania, you can't hold us here! You've got zilch authority, especially when compared to us, so let us by!" Alfred demanded, face-to-face with a checkpoint guard. They had gotten back into the city with little to no resistance, but once they got to the airport, it was another matter entirely.

"We are not permitting _anyone_ to pass beyond this point," the guard ground out in heavily accented English, glaring at America outright.

"B-But...we really need to leave. How else are we going to get to Warsaw?" Toris wondered aloud, though it was more to himself than anyone present.

"You can walk, for all I care. Get out of my sight, гомосексуалист*!" the man spat, shoving America back and sending Lithuania a warning look.

"Do you want me to mess you up?! 'Cause you're just askin' for it, you son of a bitch!" Alfred snarled, cocking a fist at the guard threateningly.

"A-Alfred, don't! I-It's alright, I've been called worse," Toris hastily whispered into the blonde's ear, his expression stressed and full of worry. _What if we can't get out of Russia? This is starting to look very bad..._

"Now, now; there's no need for this to get violent," a feminine voice wafted from behind America and Lithuania, drawing everyone's attention to its speaker.

"Comrade Orlov! I...I did not know you were coming," the guard stammered out, giving the approaching woman a salute.

"Of course you were not aware of my coming here, you were not informed; it was not necessary that you know," the woman purred, moving gracefully in front of the two foreigners as they turned around to properly face her. "Vanya, are you knowing these...government officials?" she asked, glancing coyly over her shoulder to the person standing just a bit in back of her.

"Da...Representatives of America and Lithuania," an eerily familiar voice drawled out, amethyst eyes wandering over the country personifications lazily.

America couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as he looked the newcomer over, his teeth grinding in anger. _He looks exactly like Russia..._, Alfred thought, sizing up the new communist country should things become physical. _I'll be able to hold my own against him, I've done it before, but I'm not too sure about Toris - not to mention little Rus, he won't stand a chance!_

"May I ask your business here, gentlemen? I was not told of your arrival," the woman asked in a sweet tone, though her eyes were sharp as flint.

"They are not worth worrying about, for the moment at lea-" the other Ivan began to say in a rather smug tone, but was cut off by a sharp slap across the face from the woman.

"I will decide such things, _солнышко_* Vanya. Who was it that brought our wonderful Union back to life? Who was it that gathered our comrades together once again to regain our rightful place in the government, and set you back on the correct path? Who was it, my sweetling?" the woman uttered in a sickeningly sweet tone, walking the tips of her fingers up Soviet Russia's broad chest.

"_You_...," the other Ivan muttered out, sounding much like a petulant child that had been denied a treat because of bad behavior.

"And whom is it that leads you, my heart?" she hummed in a dark tone, her delicate hand tightly gripping the blood red scarf he wore.

"You," he replied in a small voice, a spark of fear flashing in his red-flecked purple eyes. He flinched when he felt her hand travel up to his face, thin fingers circling the red mark on his cheek like disparaging vultures.

"Good boy," the woman cooed in an overly sweet tone, patting Soviet Russia on the cheek such as one would a young child for completing a task. "Now," she began, returning her attention to America and Lithuania, her tone shifting to one more business-like, "What is it that I can help you with, gentlemen? Surely there is a reason for you coming here, no?"

America felt anger boil up in him at how this woman, who was apparently the instigator of this new communist revolution, was acting. Not only did she have the audacity - yeah, that's right; America can use a word like audacity when he wants to! - to actually _hit_ her country, she seemed to think she personally _owned _him! "We came here to see the extent of the damage that your _take over_ has caused, and to make sure that you're treating the injured and dead as they should be," Alfred bit out, sapphire blue glaring into steely grey.

"Of course. No matter if the injured disagree with our ideals, they are still Russian citizens, and they will be taken care of as best we can provide. The dead are always treated with respect, I assure you. Would it be too much to ask your names? I prefer knowing whom it is that I am speaking with," the woman said in a calm voice, matching America's fierce look with one of amusement.

"Alfred F. Jones," the sandy blonde answered begrudgingly, his fists clenching and unclenching in his loosely controlled rage.

"T-Toris Laurinaitis," the Lithuanian man stammered out, his arms tightening around the young boy that was concealed in his heavy winter jacket. _T-This woman...she reminds me of Stalin..._, he thought fearfully to himself, his trembling no longer caused by the cold temperatures. He glanced down when he felt the younger Russia jolt against him, tearful whimpers coming from the boy as he fisted his pudgy hands into Lithuania's green sweater.

The noise seemed to catch everyone's attention, despite how muffled it was, making Lithuania fidget and shuffle behind America somewhat.

"What was that?" the woman inquired in a genuinely curious tone, her flint eyes boring into the brunet.

Lithuania spluttered for a moment, his eyes widening in slight panic as Soviet Russia stepped closer to him. "I-It was n-nothing! J-Just a...a p-puppy that we found wandering in the streets, injured," he quickly replied, silently and frantically praying that they bought his fabrication.

"I could never tell when you were lying to me, Литва*...," Ivan breathed, a cloud of white escaping his lips before he buried the lower half of his face in the scarf he wore.

"Back off," Alfred growled, taking up a defensive stance between the Russian and Lithuanian. Just because this guy _looked _like the old Russia, that didn't make them the same.

"Ah...Amerikos*, did you miss me?" Ivan grinned, leaning back slightly as the Westerner took a step forward.

America frowned in confusion for a moment at what Soviet Russia said, but realization soon dawned on him. _No...No, no! I got rid of _**him**_! He faded away with the USSR, when Russia regained his senses! How can he be back?!_ Alfred wondered in shocked anger. The purple eyes with flecks of red in them, like minuscule burning coals in a pool of amethyst stone, should have been a dead give away to America that his rival of the Cold War had returned, but America believed that he had defeated that side of Russia and didn't recognize him right away. "Soviet...You bastard, how are you still around?!" he demanded, startlingly white teeth bared like a wild animal.

Soviet Russia returned the look, though with more smugness and less of a defensive or angry feeling to the gesture. "You honestly thought that you had gotten rid of me? Tsk, tsk; how very...underestimating of you, Fedya*. Whether or not you want to admit it, I'm a part of Russia...and I _always_ will be. Just as you will always have your Native America side, the part of you that absolutely _hates_ all those other countries that colonized you when you were younger, Russia will always bleed Red," he remarked in a slow and decisive voice, his canine teeth clacking together as his lips curled back in a way that resembled an angered bear.

"You are the monster that lurks in the darkest corridors of Russia's being, a creature that he chained and locked away long ago. While you may be a _part_ of Russia, you are _not_ him. You're nothing more than a greedy, spoiled child who is so fixated on his own lust for power and gluttony of land that he cannot even comprehend what is happening around him, nor do you care about what lies are being fed to you or what truths are being twisted and whispered into your ear. You are nothing but a _shadow_, a mere after-image of Russia," Toris spoke up in a sudden whirl of hot emotion, his previous timidity withering in the face of his outrage.

Soviet Russia sneered at Lithuania, his eyes narrowing at the smaller man. "Is that so?" he muttered, the red flecks in his purple eyes seeming to stand out sharply in his anger.

Lithuania said nothing, but he didn't flinch away from the larger country's controlled rage, his blue eyes smoldering with righteous indignation. In the past, it had been easier to just cower away from Soviet Russia and do as he was told, but it was different now; now, Lithuania wasn't just going to stand by, powerless, as he watched Russia destroy himself utterly.

America smirked, nearly letting out a whoop at how Lithuania just told off Soviet like it was nothing. "So, are you going to clear us to leave the country _diplomatically_...or are we going to have to roll up our sleeves and scrap this one out?" Alfred asked, cracking his knuckles threateningly. "It's been a long while since you and me have gone at it, Soviet."

Bell-like laughter sliced through the building tension like a heated knife through butter, and the woman stepped between the two fearlessly. "You wish to leave so soon? As _unfortunate_ as that is, we will comply with your demands, Mr. Jones. There is no need to get violent over such a trivial matter," she hummed in a velvety voice, looking America over with hooded eyes. "You may call me Vladislava Orlov. I look forward to seeing the both of you again..."

* * *

"Why did they just let us leave? It was obvious that they didn't believe a word of what we said, so why are we getting off so easily? I don't like this...," Alfred muttered, an analytical frown on his slightly tanned face. "Soviet is either being his usual arrogant self, or he's planning something...Probably gonna blow us outta the sky once we lift off..."

"No...I don't think that's it, Alfred. While Soviet Russia may be drunk with power, the woman that leads him is not. She knows what she's doing, and right now, that means showing her country off as merciful and benevolent to the rest of the world. You attract more flies with honey than vinegar, and when Soviet calls upon some of the weaker nations to join his union without any violence, they might be more inclined to accept his offer. After all, we technically trespassed here," Toris said in a contemplative tone.

"Ugh...I hate these political mind games that come around before a war," Alfred sighed in frustration, shaking his head.

Lithuania gave the blonde a melancholy smile, nearly whispering, "Ivan hated them, too..."

The statement hung heavily in the air for a moment, neither really wanting to address what had been said. The sound of snow crunching underneath their boots, in an uneven tempo, was all that could be heard in the remote area of the airport's runways, that they were currently traversing across, small flurries blowing at them and tugging at their clothes. The uneasy silence was suddenly broken by a sleepy voice asking, "What do I hate?"

Lithuania started at the small voice, unzipping his jacket so that he could shift the younger Russia into a better position in his arms. "Ah, awake already? How are you feeling, any warmer?" he asked, avoiding the boy's question. The brunet glanced up briefly to see that America was conversing with who he assumed was the pilot of the small plane they would be using to fly back into Poland, but he quickly returned his attention to Ivan.

Ivan merely hummed in answer to both inquiries, tapping his index finger against Lithuania's chest.

Lithuania couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped him, the tension that had previously stalked him like a hunting cat, since facing off with Soviet Russia, lifting. "What are you doing?" he asked in a humored tone, watching as the boy's finger paused in its continuous motion.

"I'm talking to your heart," he stated cheerfully, resuming the repetitive tapping.

"Oh, really? What's it saying?" Toris inquired, stopping a little bit away from where America was speaking with the pilot.

"That you're sad about something," Ivan answered, finally stopping his tapping to investigate how the zipper on Lithuania's jacket moved. "What's your name? You never told me, da?" he asked, looking up at the older nation's face expectantly.

"Oh...Well, I suppose I am...," Toris murmured, clearing his throat. "My name is Toris, and that's Alfred over there," he replied, gesturing to America.

"Toris...and Alfred?" Ivan repeated in an unsure tone, sounding out the unfamiliar names slowly. He paused for a minute, bringing a hand up to his left cheek and rubbing it. "Toris, my cheek hurts," he mumbled, sounding a bit on the verge of tears.

Lithuania blinked, shifting Ivan onto his hip to free up his other arm. "Here, let me look," he said, gently removing the boy's pudgy hand from his cheek. His blue eyes narrowed in confusion as he saw a fairly large bruise forming on the left side of Ivan's face, like he had been hit. _How in the world did that happen? He didn't have that a while ago..._, he wondered silently, feeling worry bubble up in his chest.

After going over the usual talk with the pilot, America was about to go and tell Lithuania that everything was all ready when the man pulled him into a bear hug. "Hey, whoa, easy there!" Alfred blurted out, breaking out of the human's grip.

The man looked a bit surprised at the American's strength at first, but quickly dismissed it. He started speaking rapidly in Russian, but soon switched to English when he noticed America struggling to translate his words. "You...are savior to my family. If you not wanting to leave for Poland, my family would not get out of country alive and together. Thank you," he said slowly, giving America a grateful smile.

America nodded in understanding, finally taking notice of the frightened faces that stared out of the plane's small windows at him. As the other man walked off to get the plane ready to go, America trotted over to Lithuania. "Hey, Toris, we're all set! Let's get moving; I want to be out of here before that bastard, Soviet, changes his mind," Alfred muttered, tugging impatiently at the brunet's sleeve.

"Alfred, stop pulling! Here, why don't you take Ivan and get settled in; I need to give Feliks a call so he can get someone to pick us up at the airport," Toris said, handing the boy off to America as he quickly pulled out his phone.

"Alright, but don't take too long," Alfred warned, glancing around the area with a suspicious look in his blue eyes.

Ivan frowned as the two approached the small plane, a question forming in his mind as he tugged on America's leather jacket. "What is _that_?" he demanded in a curious tone, pointing to the aircraft excitedly.

America glanced down at the younger Russia, having not noticed that he was awake when he took him. "Huh? That's an airplane, it flies you from place to place over long distances," he answered, reminding himself that the boy remembered nothing of the last thousand years*; he seemed to be stuck somewhere in the past, though he had retained his knowledge of English pretty well.

"_Fly_?" Ivan repeated doubtfully, giving the plane a wary look.

"Yeah, it's sort of complicated to explain, but it _can _fly. Don't worry, you'll love it," Alfred replied in a reassuring tone, clambering up the steps to the small plane. He plopped down into one of the seats near the back, setting Ivan down in the one next to him, that was closest to the window. After buckling their seat-belts, he pointed out the small window, saying, "When we take off, you can look out the window and see how everything looks from way up in the sky. It's pretty neat."

Ivan looked from the oval window to America's face, still a bit doubtful of the whole idea.

Once Lithuania got onto the plane, they took off without any further delays. They would arrive in Poland sometime in the early morning, so Lithuania had fallen into a light sleep and America had started to doze on and off. Ivan had been looking out the window, like America had told him to, when they took off, but quickly looked away when he started to feel sick at the sight of the ground shrinking below them. He curled up in his seat - or, at least as much as he could with the seat-belt restricting his movements - and tried not to become sick as the plane continued to climb higher into the dark sky.

* * *

гомосексуалист : Queers **in Russian**

_солнышко_: Dear **in Russian**

Литва : Lithuania **in Russian**

Amerikos : Stupid American **in Russian slang**

Fedya : Diminutive of Fyodor, which is Alfred - or, at least the closest thing to Alfred - **in Russian**

"The last thousand years" : I set this story in the year 3000, only because I didn't want to mess with any of the current politics in the world right now. It just seemed a lot easier - and believable - for this to be taking place way into the future instead of present day.


	5. Titles of Old

Lithuania stretched as he woke up, faintly hearing the pilot announce over the intercom that they had landed in Poland. He rubbed wearily at his eyes as he stood up, moving his hand to the back of his neck to try and massage out the tense kinks that had taken up residence there while he slept. He paused for a moment to watch the human family that had flown over with them quickly gather their belongings and exit the plane, never once looking back. _I understand why they're doing this...but, as a country, having your own people flee your borders for another is a terrible feeling_, he thought to himself, rearranging his jacket.

He shimmied out of the tight space between his seat and the one in front of it, turning to where America was dozing in his seat. "Alfred...Alfred, wake up," Toris said in a slightly raised voice, placing his hand on the other's shoulder and giving him a light shake.

America jolted awake, reaching into his leather jacket for a gun that wasn't there on pure instinct, blinking up owlishly at the brunet. After a moment of remembering where he was, the younger nation relaxed and ran a hand through his slightly mussed hair. "Ugh...what time is it?" he muttered, arching his back until an unpleasant crack was heard.

Lithuania pushed the sleeve of his heavy winter coat up so that he could check his watch, letting out a tired sigh. "It's almost five in the morning," he answered.

"Perfect...I won't get any real sleep for another twenty-four hours," Alfred groaned, unbuckling his safety belt. "Well, I guess we should get a move on...," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, shifting in his seat so that he could get Ivan. "Hey, time to wake up, buddy," he hummed in a light voice, gently shaking the boy.

The young boy let out a low whine, pushing at America's arm and refusing to look at him.

"You mad at me, Rus?" Alfred asked, unbuckling the Russian and picking him up despite the boy's protesting.

Ivan was quiet for a while before mumbling out a short, "No".

"Well then, what's the problem, big guy?" Alfred prodded, using that specific nickname out of pure habit, as he followed Lithuania off of the plane and into the infinitesimally warmer airport.

Ivan didn't reply, instead clinging desperately to America's clothing with one hand as he used the other to scrub vigorously at his face, so that it looked like he hadn't been crying the entire flight.

Lithuania glanced back at the other two, taking note of the boy's flushed face and glistening eyes. Clearing his throat to get America's attention, he whispered, "Alfred, I don't think he liked the plane ride."

America made a noise of realization, his expression morphing into one of guilt. "Aw, jeez, buddy...Why didn't you say somethin' to me?" Alfred asked, trying to get the Russian to look at him.

"I didn't wanna bother you...You were sleeping," Ivan sniffed, fidgeting with his scarf and keeping his eyes firmly trained on one of the buttons on America's uniform so that he wouldn't have to look the blonde in the eye.

"It doesn't matter if I'm asleep; if something's freaking you out, you just wake me up and I'll help you deal with it, alright?" Alfred said in a reassuring tone, ruffling the boy's velvety soft hair. "Hey, how 'bout this: since you had such a crummy time on the plane, I'm gonna buy you one of those big chocolate chip cookies that I saw being sold somewhere here in the airport. How's that sound, huh?" he hummed happily, bouncing Ivan excitedly in his arms until the boy started laughing.

Lithuania hid his smile as he watched the two interact, almost feeling like he was intruding in some way. _America may act like a big kid a lot of the time, but he certainly knows when he needs to be responsible_, he thought to himself, pulling out his phone when the electronic device started to vibrate in his pocket, indicating that he was receiving a call. "Yes?" he spoke into the slightly out-dated phone, trying to hear a response over the ruckus of the terminal.

"Where are you, Toris? You said that your flight was getting in soon, and I've, like, been looking all over the place for you guys!" came Feliks' disgruntled voice, a hint of a whine in it.

"W-What? You mean you came yourself?" Toris stammered out, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. _Of course he would come instead of sending someone else...Why in the world did I think he was going to act like a normal, rational person in the first place?_

"Duh, of course! I just repainted my car, and you haven't had a chance to see it yet! So, when I got your call, I figured that it would be the perfect time to show it off," Feliks replied loudly, a smirk evident in his tone.

"Alright, Feliks...Ah, meet us at the little bakery vendor that sells those big cookies you like so much, you know the one that I'm talking about, right? The one near terminal C? Yes, that one...Yes, Feliks, I'll buy you a cookie...," Toris sighed, ending the call with his old friend. He looked back over to America, seeing that the younger country was now running around the terminal making horse noises with Ivan riding on his shoulders. _Those two always did act like kids with each other, at least now one of them looks the part_, he chuckled to himself, going over to tell them that they needed to meet up with Poland.

* * *

"You guys, like, took forever to get here," Feliks muttered as the trio finally came into speaking range of the Polish man.

"I'm sorry, Feliks, but we got a little turned around because America thought he knew where to go...Turned out he didn't," Toris apologized, giving the sulking American a small smile.

"I'm good with directions, I'm telling you!" Alfred huffed, scuffing his shoe against the floor.

"Whatever, you're here now. So, Toris, you gonna get me my cookie?" Feliks asked in a sing-song voice, practically draping himself against the Lithuanian.

"A-Alright, what do you want?" Toris inquired, slightly embarrassed by Poland's behavior in public.

"Oooh, get me that one with the white chocolate and almonds in it," Feliks hummed, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Hold up, man, I'll get the grub. I promised Rus a cookie, and dagnabbit, I'm gonna get him a cookie! 'Sides, you're both helpin' me out quite a bit, so I don't mind footin' the bill on this one; it's the least I can do, y'know?" Alfred said, setting Ivan down in a chair next to Lithuania as he made to get in line.

Poland stared at the little boy for a while, his mouth slowly dropping open. "O...M...G...," he whispered, sitting down across from Ivan.

Lithuania waited for the rest of Poland's reaction, unable to tell exactly how the blonde was going to deal with this. It was no secret that Poland and Russia didn't always get along, but there _were _some good times shared between the two.

"No way..._Vladimir-Suzdal_*?" the blonde questioned in a hushed tone, almost to himself.

Ivan glanced up at the name, his head tilted to the side in confusion. His eyes shifted from Poland to Lithuania, unsure of how to respond, or if he even should. "U-Um..."

Poland switched his gaze to look at Lithuania, his expression still one of confused shock. "What were you and America doing in Russia again?" he asked, his green eyes flickering down to Ivan periodically.

"It's...not really something that should be discussed here, out in the open. But, I can tell you that he doesn't remember anything, so don't...do anything you might regret later, Po," Toris replied in a low tone, leaning close to the other country so that Ivan wouldn't overhear.

Poland gave an almost absent nod, turning back to face the young boy across the table from him. "I can't believe this...He's totally cute, like a puppy!" Feliks suddenly burst out, reaching over the table to squish Ivan's cheeks like little old ladies always did to young children.

Ivan winced at the pressure on his cheeks, attempting to pull away from Poland's manicured hands.

"Gosh, he should be illegal, he's just so darned adorable!" Feliks gushed, finally releasing the boy's cheeks. "Come over here and give your totally fabulous uncle Po some love!" he exclaimed, gesturing for Ivan to come over and sit on his lap.

Ivan immediately turned to look at Lithuania, looking for a way out of it. He grabbed onto the brunet's sleeve and gave a desperate tug, a pleading look on his face. "Do I _have_ to?" he whispered into Lithuania's ear, once the older nation leaned down to his level.

Lithuania gave the boy a sympathetic expression, a knowing smile on his face. "It's best if you just humor him now...It will only be worse if you put it off, trust me. Don't worry, your...ahem...uncle Po is a really nice guy," Toris replied, nearly shaking his head at Poland's behavior. It was just like Poland to act like this, but it was better than if he had reacted differently; Poland could hold a grudge for a very long time, if he really put his mind to it.

Ivan reluctantly scooted off of his chair and trudged over to the expectant Poland, letting out a surprised yelp when the blonde nation suddenly pulled him up onto his lap. He grimaced when the cheek-pinching was started up again, the unknown syllables of Polish being cooed into his ears. He tried not to fidget too much, but he just didn't feel as comfortable with "Uncle Po" as he did when Alfred or Toris was holding him.

"I would have been so great as a big brother, don't you think, Toris?" Feliks sighed dreamily, cuddling the fidgety little boy. "Why couldn't Russia stay like this longer, sort of like Latvia has? It's too bad that Mongolia got him when he was at this stage," he muttered, a frown forming on his lips when his eyes noticed the ring of scars that went around Ivan's neck, the scarf he wore having shifted when the boy started to move around.

"Feliks...," Toris said in a warning tone, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard.

"Alrighty, fellas, here's the grub!" Alfred burst in happily, clunking an armload of treats onto the table as he balanced a cardboard container with four cups in it with his other hand. "Got us some coffee, seeing as how it's not a decent time for anyone to be awake without a good ol' cup o' joe," he added as he divvied out the cups of hot liquid, bringing another chair over so that he could sit down at the cramped table.

"You didn't get Ivan coffee, did you?" Toris asked, taking the lid off of the child's cup to check it. Caffeine could send an _adult _Russia bouncing off the walls when he'd had too much, Lithuania didn't want to see what effect it would have on a _younger _Russia.

"Dude, what d'you take me for?" Alfred huffed in mock hurt and outrage, scavenging through the pile of baked goodies to find something he wanted. "I asked what sort of drinks they had for kids, and it was between a bottle of apple juice or milk, so I got him milk," he replied, unwrapping a blueberry muffin and breaking off a piece, popping it into his mouth.

"Ah, good," Toris sighed, letting Ivan have his drink.

"So, what exactly is the plan here?" Feliks asked in between bites of his cookie. Poland knew Russia well enough to know that, when food was put in front of him, he was pretty much oblivious to anything else at the time, so he figured it was safe enough to talk about what was going on in front of Ivan while the boy was preoccupied.

America paused in his eating, letting out a breath through his nose. "I don't really know right now...We'll need to inform the other countries about everything that's happened, but I think we should be selective in who we choose to tell about Ivan," he answered slowly, really thinking about his reply.

"I agree...He made a lot of enemies that would have no trouble with taking advantage of him in his current state," Toris concurred, taking a cautious sip of his coffee. He blinked rapidly when he burned his tongue on the piping hot liquid, his eyes watering a bit.

"So, who do we trust the most?" Feliks asked, sounding thoughtful.

"We'd have to tell his sisters, wouldn't we? They're probably in a really dark place right now, and this might help them deal with Soviet Russia returning...," Toris piped up, breaking a cookie in half and nibbling on it.

Feliks snorted, settling green eyes on his friend. "There's a problem with that: Belarus."

"She's gotten _better_, Feliks, even you have noticed that," the Lithuanian said, trying to keep his temper from flaring up in defense of the youngest Kievan Rus sibling. It wasn't really her fault; the female nations tended to be attracted to power very early on in their development, but he will admit that Belarus had a great deal of trouble out-growing the phase. While he still had a bit of a crush on the Belarussian woman, he wasn't being as upfront about it as he once was.

"Listen, to be honest, I really only trust the old Allies and Axis Powers with this...They all saw what Soviet Russia was like in person and during war times, they won't join his ranks until their entire countries are populated by Soviets and their capitals burned to the ground. But, they also know what Russia's like when he's got a clear head and there aren't any serious wars going on. I'm willing to bet that they'll have our backs on this," Alfred spoke up again, his blue eyes showing his certainty.

"I'd take that bet with you; I don't think any of those countries are going to go down without a fight, and they'll probably be sympathetic to us on this certain...situation," Toris murmured, shaking his head when he saw Ivan sharing his food with the squirrel he had brought along from the park. _Wait, what?!_ he choked, doing a double-take. "Gah, that thing was in my jacket!" he blurted out, his clothes suddenly feeling very dirty and full of rodent-ness.

"Huh?" came the confused utterances of both Poland and America, Ivan still too engrossed with his food to really care what was going on around him.

"The _squirrel_...He still has it," the brunet whispered, glancing around nervously to see if anyone else had spotted the large rodent.

"What, that little guy? I don't see a problem with Rus keepin' it," Alfred said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"But it's a wild animal...in an airport! And it's not all that little, actually," Toris pointed out, keeping his voice hushed.

"Dude, my bro has a polar bear as a pet. A _polar bear_," the sandy blonde American said in an exaggerated tone, looking at Lithuania over his cup of coffee.

Lithuania gaped at America in bewilderment, not understanding how the other thought this was _normal_.

"Well...," Feliks hummed, stretching his arms out above his head, "Can we get out of here? There's going to be an emergency meeting at ten, and I'd like to get a few hours of sleep before then."

America sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah, I guess we should. Man, I still can't believe this is happening...," he murmured, gathering up their trash and tossing it into a garbage can. "It's just...surreal, y'know? It really, _really _sucks," Alfred added, his voice shaky.

Lithuania pressed his lips into a thin line, placing a hand on the sandy blonde's shoulder. "I know, Alfred...But we'll win this, we'll get him back," he reassured in a soft and meaningful tone.

America cleared his throat and gave a suspicious sniff, quickly rubbing at his eyes again. "Yeah...Yeah, I know. I _can't _let it get too far this time. We almost came to blows during the Cold War, I don't want to go down that path again with him," he replied, recovering from his momentary lapse in composure.

"Alright, since I don't have a kiddy-seat or anything, you're gonna have to sit in the back with Ivan and keep an eye on him," Feliks said, picking up a drowsy-looking Russia. Ivan made a half-hearted attempt at fussing, but was really too tired to do anything more than kick his bare feet out once or twice. Poland couldn't help but make an 'Oh, my God, that was so cute!' face at that, trying to take a picture with his phone while still balancing the boy in his arms.

"Sure thing, I don't mind. Gives me a little time to contact my Boss and get updated on what our plans are," Alfred agreed, following the two European countries out to the airport parking structure.

"выжидание, американский*!" someone yelled from behind them, just as they had reached Poland's car.

All three adult nations turned around, expecting a fight, but America and Lithuania relaxed - even though they were a bit surprised - when they saw the pilot that had flown them out of Moscow running up to them.

"Wait! Wait, American!" the man repeated in English, huffing as he came to a stop in front of the small group.

"Dude, what are you doing out here?" Alfred asked incredulously, not bothering to speak in Russian as he hoped his tone of voice would be enough of a translation for the Russian man to understand his confusion.

Poland gave the other two countries a confused, but still alert, look as they waited for the human to regain his composure, trying to figure out what was happening at the moment.

"You...You leave before I could...speak with you again...," the man finally puffed out, straightening from his bent over position as he recovered from running after the three nations. "I thank you again for what you do for my family. I can never thank you enough, so...is there something I do for you? Anything to repay for you saving my family," he said in a very serious tone, his message not lost in his lack of English.

"No way, man, I should be the one thanking you! You got us out of there, despite us being foreigners and strangers to you. You don't have to do anything for me," Alfred replied, looking to Lithuania for a correct translation, since he was still learning to speak Russian well enough to hold a conversation like this.

The man listened intently to Lithuania as he repeated America's words in flawless Russian, his eyes narrowing slightly beneath his snow-dusted hat. "Nyet. I do for you...whatever you ask, американский," he grunted out, remaining stubborn on this.

America stifled a frustrated sigh, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. His face lit up as he got an idea, fumbling around in his pockets for a pen and something to write on. Finally coming up with a pencil that he had absent-mindedly stuffed into his jacket during the meeting, when he'd gotten bored, and the receipt from the airport vendor, he scribbled something down on the back of the receipt before handing it off to the Russian pilot, a warm smile on his face. "Here, you call that number and tell them that you're a friend of mine; don't forget to use my name, Alfred F. Jones, exactly. They'll help you settle down in America, or wherever you want to go, and get you set up with a house and a job - whatever you need. You wanna do something for me? Take care of your family, make 'em feel happy and give them as good a life as you can," he said in a genuine tone. "You do that, and I'll consider us even," he added, winking jokingly.

The man was completely silent as Lithuania translated again, looking down at the information on the paper he held in his gloved hands. He stared up at America in absolute awe when the information sank in, frozen where he stood as the three quickly got into Poland's car and drove off, leaving him standing in the snowy airport parking lot with an incredibly valuable scrap of paper clutched tightly in his hand. "мы как угодно никогда быть живым одинаковый, американский...не спустя всякий вами вызывать сделанный для нам*...," he murmured to himself, slowly walking back to the airport in deep thought.

* * *

Vladimir-Suzdal: One of the largest principalities of Kieven Rus, which had Moscow in its borders. In my personal headcanon, Kieven Rus was a female nation that had children representing each of the principalities of her country. Since Vladimir-Suzdal had Moscow and was one of the largest principalities of Kieven Rus, I see Ivan representing that area. Poland and Lithuania were both around during that time, so they probably would have come across each other at some point, which is why Poland knows Ivan's previous personification name.

выжидание, американский: "Wait, American" in **Russian**

мы как угодно никогда быть живым одинаковый, американский...не спустя всякий вами вызывать сделанный для нам: "We will never be equal, American, not after all you have done for us" in **Russian**. There was a lot of guessing on my part for this whole sentence, since I really don't know Russian at all, so I apologize if it's completely wrong.


End file.
